


Keep Me Awake and Alive

by al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Potential to Lovers, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Say Anything AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons/pseuds/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons
Summary: Stevie cleared her throat dramatically. “Dear David,” she started out, voice dripping with irony. Her expression suddenly softened as she scanned down the page. “I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.” she continued, her voice quiet.  “All the love in my heart, Patrick.”It's a Say Anything AU! We've got David as Diane Court, Patrick as Lloyd Dobler, getting lucky to Peter Gabriel, grand gestures in the form of boomboxes, and hand-holding on an airplane.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 40
Kudos: 78
Collections: Reel Schitt's Creek Prompt Fest





	Keep Me Awake and Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Varanidae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varanidae/pseuds/Varanidae) in the [Reel_Schitts_Creek](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Reel_Schitts_Creek) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Say Anything AU. You choose who will be Lloyd and who will be Diane. You choose the decade (80's or today). I just want there to be a scene in the backseat of a car where someone loses their virginity, classic Peter Gabriel blasting outside the window, and hand holding on an airplane.
> 
> I think there is _probably_ enough context to read this if you haven't seen the film, but it will definitely make more sense if you have. 
> 
> Hope this AU is everything you wanted and more, prompter! 
> 
> Shoutout to Anna for the beta work!

“I’m going to take David Rose out again,” Patrick said suddenly, interrupting Stevie and Rachel’s bickering. 

“That’s unlikely,” Stevie muttered, pulling lazily on the joint between her fingers. She was sprawled out on Patrick’s unmade bed, tendrils of smoke floating out the window behind her head. “You never had a _first_ date with him.” 

Rachel tittered from her position on the windowsill, reaching to take the joint from Stevie. Patrick rolled his eyes at both of them. 

The three of them- Patrick, Stevie, and Rachel- were all hanging out in his room, basking in the freedom of the end of the school year. The trio, lifelong friends though they were, made for a motley crew; Rachel and Patrick had dated from 7th grade up through junior year, when Patrick came to terms with the fact that he was gay. Stevie had long pined after Rachel, but had finally gotten over it around the time she started hooking up with Jake. They teased each other relentlessly in the way only close friends can, knowing how and when to go for the jugular and when to tread lightly. Patrick loved them both immensely. 

“Yes, I did. We had coffee together that one time. I had a muffin, and he was eating a scone. We ate together, that’s sharing an important physical event. It was a date.”

“Patrick,” Stevie propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. “You happened to be there at the same time. There were no other open tables. He asked if he could sit with you. That’s not a date.”

Patrick scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. “What _is_ a date, then?” 

“Dates are prearranged, Patrick,” Rachel said, in a tone that made Patrick feel as if he should know this already- which, in fairness, after years of dating her, he should. “A prearranged meeting with the possibility of love.” 

Stevie snorted, and Rachel stuck her tongue out. Rachel was and always had been a hopeless romantic; Stevie, not so much. 

“I’m going to call him,” Patrick resolved, ignoring them. 

“David Rose doesn’t go out with people like you, Patrick.” Stevie’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle as she scooted closer and placed a hand on Patrick’s knee. “His family is like, super-rich. Not to mention he’s leaving for that fancy arts program at NYU at the end of summer.”

“He looks like a model,” Rachel mused, pulling on her auburn braid with a faraway look in her eyes. “And he’s a little stuck up, don’t you think? Like... he knows exactly how good-looking he is.”

“That’s what I _like_ about him!” Patrick insisted. “He’s confident, and creative. And the way he carries himself and moves through the world…” Stevie groaned, flopping back to lay on the bed again. “I’m going to call him, and I’m going to ask him to go out with me.” 

Rachel sighed. “We just don’t want to see you get hurt, hon.” she said softly. 

“Well maybe I want to get hurt!” Patrick said stubbornly. “Maybe David Rose is worth getting hurt for.” 

* * *

“I really don’t want you guys to come,” David insisted, fussing with his cap and gown. “It’s stupid anyway. I don’t even know why _I’m_ going.”

“David, it’s your high school graduation! Your mother and I are going.” Johnny stood in the doorway of his son’s room, fastening his cufflinks. “It’s not often we’re both home during a big event like this.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” David muttered under his breath. As CEO of Rose Manor Inc., the largest conglomerate of nursing homes and senior living communities in the country, Johnny Rose was a busy man, and he and Moira were often away on business. 

“What’s that, son?”

“Nothing!” David turned to look at his father. “If you’re insisting on going, can we please leave? I don’t want to be late.”

“Sure, sure. Your mother was just changing her wig.”

“ _Again_? She’s changed it four times already!” Johnny just shrugged in a “what can you do” sort of way, as he often did when it came to Moira’s behaviors.

Once they’d finally successfully tracked down Moira, the Rose family marched out of the house to the driveway, where David was greeted by the sight of a brand new cherry-red Porsche. 

He stopped in his tracks, looking incredulously at his parents. “You guys bought another new car?”

Johnny grinned, dangling a set of keys from one hand. 

“Happy graduation, son. It’s yours!” 

David raised his eyebrows, looking between his parents. “You’re serious?”

“Of course, darling!” Moira exclaimed. “It’s not every day one’s singular offspring gets to celebrate their commencement!” 

“We’re just so proud of you, son. A scholarship to NYU! That deserves to be rewarded.” 

David’s mouth twisted to the side, pleased in spite of himself as he took the keys from his dad’s hand.

“You’ll teach me how to drive it, right?” 

Johnny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You don’t know how to drive a stick shift?” 

“Dad...I failed my test twice. You know that.” 

Johnny shifted uncomfortably before he laughed, rubbing his hands together. “Sure, sure I do! We’ll figure something out, pay for more lessons…” 

David swallowed his disappointment, silently chastising himself for allowing himself to momentarily picture father-son driving lessons as one last opportunity to bond before he went off to college. Clearing his throat, he handed the keys back to his dad.

“Can you hang onto these for me? This look isn’t conducive to extraneous items in my pockets. It’ll ruin my silhouette.” David waved a hand across his body in a sweeping gesture and ducked towards the family car where their driver was waiting. 

The graduation ceremony seemed interminable. After enduring a completely butchered acapella version of _The Greatest Love of All_ and the most boring valedictorian speech in the history of speeches, it was finally time for the graduates to walk the stage. David pulled nervously at the sleeves of his gown, the sun beating down on the football field causing sweat to gather around his neckline and under his arms. He peered into the stands, searching for a familiar face, and finally saw his dad waving at him, but his mother was nowhere to be found. David clenched his jaw, smiling humorlessly as he was handed his diploma, focusing only on not tripping over his own feet in front of the entire school. 

_Not that it really matters,_ he thought bitterly as he made his way back to his seat. _None of these people really know me, anyways, so why should I care?_

David had always stood apart from his classmates, at first by design and then because people gave up on trying to get to know him. It was only now that high school was over that David thought he might regret it. 

When the graduation ceremony finally ended, David followed the mass of people out of the stadium to look for his parents. 

“Where’s mom?” he asked, finding Johnny hovering by a tree near the parking lot. 

“Well,” Johnny looked uncomfortable. “You know your mother. She doesn’t do well in the sun and heat. She went back to the car.”

“Mmmhmm,” David nodded, lips pressed firmly together. It was incredible to him that he still had the capacity to be disappointed by his parents, even after 18 years of being let down by them. 

“We should probably get going if we want to make our dinner reservation…” Johnny trailed off, eyes already searching the parking lot for their car. 

_Happy graduation to me_ , David thought bitterly, shrugging out of his gown and following behind Mr. Rose. 

* * *

“Johnny Rose speaking.”

 _Fuck._ Patrick hadn’t been counting on David’s dad answering the phone when he called. 

“Um. Hi. Can I speak to David, please?” Patrick tried to keep his voice low, tucking himself into the alcove in his kitchen, the telephone cord wrapped nervously around his fingers. It was two days after graduation. Two days since Patrick had lost his nerve to ask David out when he’d spotted him leaving the commencement ceremony. He’d finally worked himself up to calling, and David wasn’t even home.

Mr. Rose chuckled into the phone. “He’s not available at the moment, this is his father. Can I take a message?”

“Um sure. This is Patrick.”

“Patrick…” Mr. Rose said slowly, as if waiting for Patrick to fill in the gap. 

“Oh um, Patrick Brewer. I mean. You don’t know me, but. Basically I’m a- a friend. Of your son’s. I mean I sat with him once, at a coffee shop. I don’t know, I just-”

“Patrick,” Johnny interrupted gently. “Why don’t I just get a phone number from you and David can call you back when he gets home?” Patrick could feel a lick of heat travel up the back of his neck. _Real smooth, Brewer._

“Oh. Okay. Um. So it’s Patrick Brewer. 555-1342. It’s 555-1342. 555-13-”

“I got it, Patrick. I’ll get him the message.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

Patrick hung up the phone and gently banged his head against the wall. If he’d fumbled his words so badly talking to David’s _father_ , how was he ever going to manage to ask David out?

He groaned, dragging himself to his bedroom and flopping facedown on his bed. He lay there for what could have been minutes or hours or days, time trickling by as he dozed off, head full of images of elegant hands and impressive eyebrows and fathomless deep brown eyes. 

He was jolted awake some time later by the sound of the telephone ringing. Sitting up and looking groggily around, he could see by the sun streaming in his bedroom window that it was late afternoon. He heard his mother pick up the phone, her soft voice taking on a surprised cadence. 

“Patrick, the telephone is for you,” Marci Brewer called from the hallway a moment later. “A boy- Daniel? David? Something like that?” Patrick leapt from his bed and scrambled to the phone in the kitchen, and his mother handed it to him with a knowing glint in her eye. She watched him as he took the receiver, and he looked at her expectantly. 

“Mom. Some privacy, please?” he begged. 

She rolled her eyes but walked away, smiling at him as she went. Patrick took a deep breath, anxiously wrapping the telephone cord around his fingers and steeling himself to speak. 

“Hello, David?”

“Um. Hi. You called me?” Patrick squeezed his eyes shut, unable to tamp down the smile he could feel blooming across his face. Even over the crackly telephone line, David Rose’s voice was melodic and captivating. 

“Yeah I um. I read about your scholarship in the paper. To NYU.” There was a beat of silence, and Patrick winced. This was not going as smoothly as he had hoped. 

“Yeah?” David prompted.

“Yeah. I just. Wanted to congratulate you. On the scholarship.”

“Mmmkay…” David said slowly. “Well thanks so much-” 

“Do you know who I am?” Patrick cut in, sensing he was about to be hung up on. 

“Mmm. We sat together at the coffee shop.”

“You-you remember?”

“No, I read it on the message my dad left for me. What can I do for you, Patrick Brewer?” 

Patrick smiled. He could picture David so clearly. The arch of his eyebrow, his elegant hands with his silver rings, his lips pulled to one side in a smirk.

“Let’s go out.” Patrick heard what sounded like either a scoff or a snort over the line, but pressed on. “Do You want to go out? With me?”

“Um. Thanks. But I’m busy?” David said in a tone that made it very clear that he was not, in fact, busy. 

Patrick’s stomach dropped. “You’re busy.” 

“Yeah, it’s just. Things are pretty hectic right now? But thanks.”

“Are you busy on Friday?” Patrick persisted. 

“Um, yes? I… have to help my dad. With work.”

“Are you busy on Saturday?” Patrick heard another noise on the other end of the phone, perhaps a huff of disbelief. 

“Saturday I have to do some shopping. Get some things for New York.” 

“Ah. So you’re just, _monumentally_ busy, then.” Inexplicably, Patrick found himself wanting to tease David even in the face of rejection. It seemed to catch him off guard. 

“W-well no. Not _monumentally_ busy,” David’s tone was somewhat defensive. 

“So what about tonight, then? You wanna go to that party at Mutt’s?” Patrick bit his lip, waiting for a response. He heard a thoughtful hum over the phone. “Look, David. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave and go off to New York without going to Mutt’s graduation thing. He’s 22 and he comes out of hiding once a year for this occasion, and he dresses up as the Creekwood Rooster and makes this drink called the Purple Passion-”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go.” 

Patrick nearly dropped the phone in shock. “Pardon?” 

“I’ll go,” David repeated, enunciating as if he were speaking to someone whose grasp on the English language was minimal at best. 

“You will? Really?” Patrick said dumbly. 

“Yes. You’re very persistent and annoying, so I’ll go. But if you keep asking me to repeat myself I’m going to change my mind.” Patrick could hear the smile in David’s voice, at odds with the words he was saying. 

“So I’ll pick you up at 8:00?”

“Sure. 8:00.”

“See you at 8, then. It’s a date.”

“Yep. Bye.” 

Patrick hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief, unable to keep the grin off his face. He was taking _David Rose_ on a date. 

  
  


When he pulled up to the Rose home later that evening, his jaw dropped. He knew the Roses were rich, but didn’t realize just _how_ rich. Their house wasn’t a house at all, but a mansion. He spotted the shiny new Porsche in the driveway, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his modest second-hand vehicle and the cozy bungalow he grew up in. Shaking these thoughts off, he took a deep breath and went to the door. 

He was greeted by a woman in a black-and-white maid uniform, who instructed him to wait in the foyer. 

“David?” she called out, her voice echoing as she disappeared from view. A moment later, an older man emerged from the opposite direction. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, taking Patrick in. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize we had guests.”

“Hello, sir,” Patrick offered his hand. “Patrick Brewer.” 

“Ah, Patrick! We spoke on the phone earlier.”

“Yes sir. I’m here to see David.” Mr. Rose nodded, and Patrick felt self-conscious as he looked at him appraisingly. He was suddenly all too aware of how poorly his modest clothing fit in among the marble and gilded surfaces around him.

Clearing his throat, he cast around for a moment for a conversation topic, willing David to hurry up so they could leave. 

“That’s a beautiful car in the driveway,” he finally said. 

“Oh, yes.” Mr. Rose agreed. “It was a graduation gift.”

Patrick let out a low whistle. “It’s quite a car.” Mr. Rose nodded again. Patrick felt an unstoppable need to fill the awkward silence, and found himself babbling. “Listen sir, I know you must be busy but I just want you to know- you can trust me. With David, I mean. I’m an athlete, I play hockey and baseball and coach the junior teams so I’m very responsible.”

Mr. Rose laughed. “I’m sure you are, Patrick. But David has always been able to take care of himself. I’m not worried about you.”

David chose this moment to appear from around the corner, and Patrick felt himself flush. David was striking as always, dressed head-to-toe in black, his signature silver rings glinting on his fingers. 

“Worried about what?” He looked at Patrick uncertainly, then to his father. 

“Nothing, son, nothing. You two have fun.” Johnny nodded at Patrick, giving him another once-over, and took his leave. 

They were silent as they got into Patrick’s car. A box was sitting on the passenger seat, which David moved and held delicately in his hands as if it might bite him. 

“What are these?” he asked, turning the box in his hands. 

“Oh um. Those are pretzels.”

David looked at him, nonplussed, but Patrick offered no further explanation as he fastened his seatbelt and turned the ignition with a smile. The smile quickly turned into a wince as the car was filled with a deafening blast of music as the engine turned on. Patrick hurried to turn the dial down, and David snorted as he apologized. 

They rode in painfully awkward silence for a few minutes. David realized he was still holding the box of pretzels in his hands, and started to read the label in order to give himself something to do.

“You can have some, if you want.” 

“Hmm?” He looked over at Patrick, who was glancing up at him between moments of focusing on the road in front of him. 

“If you’re hungry, or whatever. Have a pretzel. That’s what they’re there for.”

“Oh. Thanks,” David said quietly as he opened the box. He _was_ hungry, and as odd as it was that Patrick just happened to bring along a box of pretzels on their date, he was also surprised to realize that he found it...somewhat charming. To be charmed by someone like Patrick Brewer seemed like a dangerous precedent to be setting at this point. 

“Would it be terrible if I wanted to go home early tonight?” David asked suddenly. From his understanding, Mutt’s parties tended to be all-night affairs, and he wanted an out just in case. 

“No. Not at all.” Patrick said softly, looking at David so sincerely that David had to look away, digging into the box for another pretzel. 

When they arrived at the barn that Mutt called his home, the party was already in full swing. People were everywhere, spilling out into the yard and sitting on top of cars and gathered around a fire pit. Patrick seemed to know everyone, nodding in recognition and high-fiving people as they called his name. David watched as eyes widened when they spotted him trailing behind, heard gasps and whispers as people elbowed their friends to point out that _David Rose was at a social event._ Patrick seemed unfazed by it all, reaching back for David’s hand as they squeezed through the crowd so they didn’t get separated. 

David was, once again, taken by surprise at how charmed he was by the gesture. He didn’t even know this guy, not really. He had recognized him, when Patrick came to pick him up; they had a few classes together, and David _did_ now vaguely recall sitting with him at the coffee shop when there were no empty tables. Patrick was cute, he supposed, in a wholesome sort of way. He was a little shorter than David and had a head full of chestnut curls that stuck up wildly when he ran a hand through them. His eyes were the color of whisky and filled David’s belly with the same sort of warm, buzzy feeling every time he looked into them- which was fairly often, as Patrick kept glancing back at him as they moved through the masses of people. 

They eventually found Mutt, the party host, and after a few minutes of small talk, he pressed a velvet drawstring bag into Patrick’s hands. 

“Listen man, I need you to be the key master.”

“Mutt, no, I’m here to have fun-” Patrick protested, but Mutt waved him off, turning to David. 

“Very responsible young man you’re out with tonight,” he said, winking at David before wandering off. 

“Key master?” David asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah,” Patrick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have to take everyone’s car keys and judge who can drive home and who can’t.”

“Mmm,” David nodded, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. “Sounds like a real honor.” 

Patrick grinned. “Oh yeah,” he said sarcastically. “A real treat.” 

Suddenly, Patrick was slammed up against the wall by someone who appeared to be extremely drunk. David worried for a second that he was going to have to attempt to break up a fight- which was _not_ something he was cut out to do, especially in his current outfit- until he realized Patrick was smiling. 

“We finally graduated, big guy!” the newcomer yelled, planting an extremely wet-sounding, uncoordinated kiss on Patrick’s cheek. 

“Yes we did, Ted,” Patrick laughed, wiping his face and gently shoving the guy- Ted, apparently- back a few steps. Ted high-fived him, keys clasped in his hand, and Patrick winced. 

“I really wish you had done that without the keys in your hand, man.” 

Ted crowed with laughter. “I love you, Brewer!” he yelled, before taking off again, presumably to lovingly assault someone else. Patrick flexed his hand a few times, grimacing and inspecting his palm for damage. 

“You okay?” David asked.

“I’ll live,” Patrick quipped. “Hey, can I get you something to drink?” David shrugged, then nodded. “Great. I’ll be back, wait here.”

David watched him as he made his way through the crowd back to the kitchen, waylaid every so often by someone wanting to talk to him. He saw Patrick glance back at him a few times, a smile on his face every time he caught sight of him. 

* * *

Patrick found his way back to David a short time later, pleased to discover he’d stayed where he left him.

“They didn’t have many options, and I don't trust the Purple Passion,” he said apologetically, handing a can of beer to David.

“With a name like that, why wouldn’t you?” David grimaced, popping the tab open and licking up the foam that swelled out. 

Patrick watched as he did this, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. David caught him staring and smiled as he took a sip of his beer, and Patrick quickly averted his gaze elsewhere. 

They didn’t have much opportunity to talk; the party was loud and they were surrounded by drunks and Patrick was constantly being pulled away for Key Master duties. But throughout the course of the evening, David seemed to become more relaxed in increments. He chatted with Stevie and Rachel, who were pleasantly surprised that he’d agreed to come. He signed peoples’ yearbooks and mingled and drank beer, and every time Patrick’s eyes found him from across the room, David would be watching him surreptitiously, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth as he quickly looked away. 

The party finally started to wind down, and Patrick was saying his goodbyes to Mutt when Ted came running at them out of nowhere. 

“Give me my Firebird keys!” he yelled as he rolled Patrick to the ground. Patrick laughed, pushing Ted off of him and grabbing him by the shirt collar and shaking him gently. 

“ _You must chill, Ted! You. Must. Chill!”_ Pulling Ted to his feet, Patrick held his face in his hands and looked him in the eye, his expression serious. ”I’m not giving you your keys. You’re too drunk. I’m going to drive you home.” 

Ted patted Patrick gently on the face, grinning dopily. “Okay. I love you, man.”

* * *

The sky was gray with early dawn light by the time they dropped Ted off, and the car was quiet as they drove through the still-sleeping neighborhoods. 

“I’m glad we did this,” David said suddenly. 

“Yeah?” Patrick sounded surprised. David had surprised himself a little bit, too. He really hadn’t expected to enjoy the night when the unassuming, slightly dorky-looking guy he barely remembered had picked him up. He’d figured he’d humor him, tolerate the party for an hour, and ask to go home. 

“Yeah. I feel like…” David paused, biting his lip and gathering his thoughts. “No one really knew me before tonight.” 

Patrick hummed, not disagreeing. “They knew _of_ you. But now they know you.”

“Now they know me.” David agreed. They settled back into silence, but unlike the ride to the party, it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward at all. The closer they drew to the Rose family home, the less David wanted the night to end. His stomach rumbled, and suddenly he realized he was starving. He opened his mouth to mention this to Patrick, but Patrick spoke first. 

“Do you want to grab breakfast before heading home?” David tucked his lips between his teeth, nodding and attempting to hold back a smile. 

“I’d like that.”

Patrick steered them towards a greasy-looking diner, promising David the best pancakes he’d ever had. David was skeptical; he explained that he was a bit of a pancake connoisseur and had _very_ high standards, to which Patrick just grinned and responded that David was going to have to trust him. After one perfect, buttery, sweet bite, he had to admit Patrick was right; whether the pancakes were that good or if they were improved by the company in which he was eating them, David couldn’t tell, but he also didn’t really care. 

Over breakfast, they laughed and talked and got to know each other. David learned that Patrick’s father was in the military, and they’d moved around a lot when he was a kid; David told Patrick about how busy his parents’ business kept them and how he spent most of his childhood raised by nannies. It felt good, David realized, to let someone in, to let himself be known, even just a little bit. 

An hour and a stomach full of pancakes later, they were walking across the diner parking lot towards Patrick’s car when Patrick threw an arm out to stop David in his tracks. 

“Watch out for that glass,” he nodded, pointing out a pile of broken beer bottles and carefully using his foot to sweep them out of David’s path. 

“Thanks,” David said quietly. Patrick smiled at him, squinting in the early morning light, and David was startled to realize he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to taste the maple syrup and coffee on Patrick’s lips, wanted to know what it was like to have that easy smile pressed against his mouth. But then Patrick was opening the passenger-side door of the car, ushering him inside, and the moment passed. 

“Well this was a fun night,” David said emphatically as they pulled up into his family’s driveway a short time later. “You’re a great date.”

“Thank you, David, but I’m a little hurt that you sound so surprised.” Patrick teased.

“It’s just…” David considered for a moment. “I’ve never gone out with someone, um. As basic as you?” 

Patrick’s light eyebrows shot up in mock offense, but David could see the laughter playing around the corners of his mouth. “ _Basic?_ Hmm. Okay.” 

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” David insisted. “Being different from the people I’ve dated is definitely a good thing.”

“Ah. So it’s a compliment, then.”

“Exactly.” They sat in silence for a moment, and again David found himself wanting to extend their time together. “So what’s your job this summer? What are you doing?”

Patrick looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before his face split into that goofy, easy grin that already felt familiar. 

“Being a great date,” he answered. 

David narrowed his eyes at him. “No, I’m serious.”

Patrick shrugged. “So am I. I want to see you again. I want to see you as much as I can before you leave.” 

“I only have sixteen weeks,” David said softly, looking down to fiddle with the wide silver rings on his fingers. Patrick reached over, placed his hands on top of David’s and ducking his head to meet his eyes. 

“Sixteen weeks is a long time.” 

David nodded, despite his gut telling him this was a mistake, that a summer romance would probably only result in both of them getting their hearts broken. “Then...will you call me tomorrow?” 

Patrick looked around, gesturing to the sunlight streaming through the car windows. 

“Today _is_ tomorrow, David.” David rolled his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car, then ducking his head to speak through the open window. 

“Then call me later.”

Patrick nodded resolutely, grinning. “I’ll call you later.”

David watched him as he pulled back out of the driveway, waving when he honked. 

* * *

“You’re telling me your second date with David Rose is going to be a _family audition_?” Stevie said incredulously. “You’re doomed.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Patrick was rifling through his closet, looking for a decent shirt and tie to wear to dinner with the Rose family that evening. 

“It’s too much pressure, Patrick. You have that, that nervous...talking thing. Maybe it would be better if you just don’t speak. At all.” 

Patrick stuck his head out of his closet to glare at her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Stevie’s expression softened. “Look, Patrick. It’s not David I’m worried about. I saw how he kept looking at you at Mutt’s party. His family just seems... a little intense.”

Patrick shrugged, pulling his dress shirt on and buttoning it up. “I think I can handle it.” 

An hour later, he found himself standing in David’s bedroom, idly wondering if Stevie was right, and thinking that maybe he was in over his head. 

“What about this one?” David stuck a sweater through a crack in the door of his walk-in closet. It was the fourth one he had shown Patrick, and they were starting to blur together. 

“Yeah. It looks good,” Patrick responded.

“Or I could wear this one?”

“That one’s nice,” Patrick said patiently, although to him it looked identical to the one before it. 

When David had invited him to dinner with his family, he wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. His jaw had dropped when David led him to his bedroom; his walk-in closet was bigger than Patrick’s entire room, and he had an ensuite bathroom with double sinks and a jetted tub. Patrick was reminded once again that the Roses lived in an entirely different world than he did. 

“So who will be at dinner tonight?” he asked carefully, fishing for information to better prepare himself. 

David hummed in consideration before responding. “My parents, obviously. My dad’s accountant.” He stepped out of the walk-in before continuing. “Managers for a couple of the facilities my dad owns. Nobody you know, really, so it’ll be boring. But at least we’ll have each other.” 

David smiled at him as he reached over, smoothing Patrick’s shirt and straightening his tie. “You look very nice, by the way.” 

“Well, it’s not Prada, or whatever, but…” Patrick shrugged. David shook his head dismissively. 

“Mmmkay, well Prada doesn’t do menswear but...anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re wearing a _tie_ to dinner on a random Tuesday evening. I appreciate the effort.” His hands smoothed over Patrick’s shoulders soothingly, and Patrick was overcome with the desire to lean up and kiss him, right in the corner of his mouth, where David always attempted to hide his smile. He took a deep breath, and David tilted his head infinitesimally, and then the doorbell rang, echoing loudly through the house. 

David stepped back, dropping his hands to his sides, and cleared his throat. “We should um. Go- go downstairs. To dinner.” Patrick swallowed past the dry lump in his throat and nodded, following David out of his room. 

Dinner had miraculously passed without incident. Mr. and Mrs. Rose spent most of the meal discussing business with their colleagues, and David spent most of it trading secretive smiles with Patrick, rolling his eyes when the conversation got especially dull. 

Coffee was poured with dessert, and suddenly everyone’s attention was turned towards Patrick. 

“So, Patrick. You just graduated from Creekwood, right?” Mr. Rose’s accountant, Eli, asked.

Patrick nodded in affirmation, jiggling his leg nervously. He felt David’s hand squeeze his knee reassuringly, and he stilled. 

“So what are you going to do now?”

“Yes, Patrick, what are your plans for the future?” Mr. Rose fixed his gaze on him from the other end of the table. 

“Spend as much time as possible with David before he leaves,” Patrick said lightly. David smiled, looking down at his plate. 

Mr. Rose scoffed. “I’m serious.”

“I’m totally and completely serious, sir.” 

Mr. Rose narrowed his eyes at him, and Patrick felt his mouth go dry. “I mean for a career, Patrick.” 

Patrick risked a glance at David, who was still smiling, and nodded in encouragement. 

“I, um.” Patrick cleared his throat. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it quite a bit. I don’t want to sell anything. Or buy anything. Or process anything as--as a career.” _Maybe this is what Stevie meant about the nervous talking thing,_ he thought wildly, unable to stop himself as words continued to fall out of his mouth. “I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed. Or… process anything sold, bought or processed. Or repair anything sold, bought, or processed.”

Patrick could see David’s shoulders shaking in silent laughter out of the corner of his eye at this point, everyone else watching Patrick incredulously as he continued babbling. “My father is in the Army and he wants me to join, but I can’t work for a corporation I don’t believe in. Um. So. What I’ve been doing lately is coaching. Baseball and hockey. It’s not much, but I enjoy it. I don’t know what’s in store for it as far as career longevity, but um. The thing is, sir…” Patrick swallowed against the dry lump in his throat, pausing for a moment to slow down and gather his thoughts. “The thing is, I’ve spent most of my life trying to live up to other peoples’ expectations. I worked hard in school, made the varsity teams, dated the pretty girl, and made everyone else happy. But I was miserable. So um. Now I’m just taking some time to figure myself out. I can’t figure it all out tonight, sir, so in the meantime... I’m just hanging out with your son.” 

There was a moment of stunned silence, and Patrick felt a flush crawling up his neck. Risking a glance at David, he was relieved to see a smile still on his face, even as his parents and their colleagues shifted uncomfortably in their seats. 

The doorbell rang, calling attention off Patrick for a moment as Mr. Rose went to answer it and Mrs. Rose wandered off, muttering vaguely about getting more wine. 

Raised voices echoed from the front hall a moment later, and David’s eyebrows knitted together in concern as snatches of conversation including “criminal investigation” and “you can’t be serious” floated towards them. Eli and the other staff hurried to see what was going on, and after a few seconds more of muffled conversation, David got up from the table as well. 

“Wait here,” David said urgently, flapping a hand as Patrick stood to follow, before stalking off towards the front door. 

A few minutes later, Patrick jumped as he heard the front door slam, and David reappeared with his arms tightly folded across his chest. Patrick stood from his seat then, stepping towards him. 

“Um. I think you should probably go,” David said shakily, carefully avoiding Patrick’s gaze. 

“David, what’s going on?”

“That was some guy from the IRS. My parents are being investigated? Like, criminally? Something about taxes, or embezzlement, I don’t really- I’m not sure what’s-”

“Shh, okay, David,” Patrick brought his hands up to frame David’s face lightly, swiping away a tear that had slid down the side of his nose with his thumb. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” David nodded, and Patrick pressed a kiss to his forehead before taking his leave. 

David collapsed into bed later that night, mind whirring as he tried to process the evening’s events. From what he had gathered, his parents were under investigation due to their business dealings. Rose Manor Inc. was the conglomerate of nursing homes and assisted living facilities that his father owned, and they were being accused of mishandling residents’ incomes. David avoided spending time in the facilities as often as he could- caring for the elderly was not his strong suit- but the residents all seemed well cared for and happy. Surely, there had to be a mistake. David eventually passed into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of government agents busting down their front door. 

* * *

A few days later, David met Patrick for lunch before Patrick went to his coaching job. 

David picked halfheartedly at his burger, lost in thought, concerned about what was going on with his parents. 

“Earth to David…” Patrick said softly, tossing a scrunched-up straw wrapper towards him. David attempted a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just. A little overloaded.” 

Patrick shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “It’s okay.”

David shook his head, letting out a frustrated groan. “This...situation seems really unfair to you. Half the time I’m with you I’m going to be thinking of other things. My parents, New York...”

Patrick placed a hand over David’s, stilling it where it had been worrying at the edge of the table. “I really don’t mind, David. I just like spending time with you.”

“I know, it’s just. Why do good things always have to happen along with bad things? Having to deal with them at the same time, it’s overwhelming.” David looked down at his plate, unable to look into Patrick’s deep, warm eyes any longer. 

“What are you saying, David?”

“What I’m saying,” he answered slowly, weighing his words carefully. “Is that I can’t have any sort of...social life right now. Dating anybody just doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Don’t worry about it, David. We’re just hanging out. No pressure.” David looked up again, and was relieved to see Patrick’s easy smile was firmly in place. 

“Can we be...friends?” David asked uncertainly. He had very little experience in the friendship department, and wasn’t sure how to navigate it. Patrick laughed, pulling his hand back and running it through his hair in a way that made David’s chest ache. 

“Sure, friends. With potential.” he responded slyly. David nodded in agreement, biting his lip against the smile he felt blooming. 

“Friends with potential, then.”

  
  
  


They spent the next few weeks in a carefully balanced dance, Patrick shamelessly flirting and David doing all he could to resist his ridiculous charms. It was intoxicating at times, being around Patrick; so much of David’s life was chaotic and unsteady but Patrick kept him on solid ground. Patrick smiled easily and the sun made his hair look almost red at certain angles and his dark, warm eyes were deep enough to fall into, and David found himself yearning to do so, to let himself fall. As time went on, even with the worries about the current investigation against his parents and trying to get ready to leave for New York, David’s reasons for keeping Patrick at arm’s length seemed less and less sound. 

And yet, Patrick never pushed. He never even attempted to hold his hand or kiss him or pressure him in any way. His feelings for David were clear as day, but he took David’s lead and respected his assertion that they should just be friends for now. It was a refreshing change from the type of people David was used to spending time with, people who would needle and manipulate and twist things until David was doing something he didn’t want to but was half-convinced he did. 

David felt _safe_ with Patrick, and that made all the difference in the world. 

One sunny afternoon, Patrick agreed to finally teach David how to drive his graduation gift, and they stuttered around the circular drive of the Rose family home for what felt like hours. 

“You have to feel the clutch, keep going,” Patrick said patiently, for probably the 50th time. 

The car lurched and shuddered, and David grimaced as he laughed. 

“Am I wrecking my car?”

“Yeah, you are a little bit,” Patrick allowed, reaching over to fiddle with the gearshift. David took them around the driveway a few more times in a fit of stops and starts, before finally giving up and slowing the car down. 

He turned to Patrick, ready to tell him he was done with his driving lesson for today, but the words died in his throat at the impossibly fond expression on Patrick’s face, and he leaned in and kissed him. He kissed him, because everything in his life felt uncertain and terrifying but Patrick was always there, holding him upright. If Patrick was surprised, he didn’t show it, placing a steady hand on David’s face, lips warm and sure, before suddenly pulling away. 

“Brake, David, brake!” he laughed, pulling on the emergency brake between them, which David had failed to engage, causing the car to continue rolling slowly forward. And then he kissed David again, and again, until they were both breathless with it. 

Patrick pulled back, yanking a hand through his curls and looking deliciously undone. 

David took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “So much for friends with potential,” he said quietly. 

Patrick huffed out a shaky breath of a laugh. “I’m not complaining, David.” 

“No,” David agreed, biting his lip. They sat, giggling quietly for a moment, before Patrick offered to drive and they clambered over each other awkwardly to switch seats, pausing during one breathless moment in which Patrick was basically straddling David’s lap, wide-eyed and furiously blushing, and David couldn’t help but reach up and kiss him again before gently shoving him into the driver’s seat, accidentally honking the horn in the process. Patrick smiled at him as they pulled down the driveway. 

“Where to?” he asked, but David just shrugged and shook his head, knowing he’d be happy wherever they ended up. 

* * *

“Fuck,” Patrick gasped, trying to catch his breath. “So good, David.That was so good. Was that good for you?” 

David laughed, sounding incredulous that he even had to ask. “Ask me again in a few minutes when my words come back.”

They were in the back seat of Patrick’s car a few weeks later, having retreated there after the sun went down on their picnic on the beach. A lazy makeout session had turned into something more, something heated and urgent. David had continuously checked in with him as his hands and mouth explored lower and lower, asking _are you sure_ and _is this okay_ and _are you comfortable_ , and Patrick had responded with enough enthusiasm for him to continue. 

Patrick could feel David’s lips curl into a smile as he kissed him lazily, both of them too fucked out to coordinate a proper kiss and too blissful to care. The warmth of their bodies was in sharp contrast with the cool night air filtering through the car windows, and for a moment their breathing, the low sounds of the car radio, and the gentle sweep of the waves were the only sounds they could hear. 

“Are you shaking?” David asked softly, placing his hand on Patrick’s chest as they shifted to lay next to each other on the narrow bench seat. 

“No,” Patrick denied, willing himself to stop the trembling he felt in every cell of his body. 

David smiled a little, leaning his forehead against Patrick’s. “Mmm, you’re shaking,” he insisted. 

“I don’t think so,” Patrick breathed against David’s lips, a shiver running up his spine. 

“You’re _cold,_ Patrick.”

“I don’t think I am,” Patrick replied, because he wasn’t. He was certain the tremors currently coursing through his body were the result of adrenaline and a post-sex high and so much emotion that it couldn’t be contained. He was almost delirious with happiness, unable to believe he was in this place with this person. He’d just had sex, for the first time in his life, with _David Fucking Rose._ He and Rachel had fooled around plenty of times but it was never anything like this. Patrick hadn’t _known_ it could feel like this, had always been certain people were exaggerating when they talked about feeling weak at the knees and like their stomachs were full of butterflies. His entire body was trembling, but it certainly, most definitely wasn’t due to the cold. 

“Then why are you shaking?” David laughed, wriggling to wrap his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. They were touching everywhere, sticky with sweat, the cramped back seat hardly giving them enough room to breathe, but neither of them cared. 

“I don’t know,” Patrick pressed a kiss to the underside of David’s jaw and ghosted his lips down his throat, pleased to elicit a shiver in response. “I think I’m happy.” 

David rolled his eyes and twisted his mouth in the way he often did when he was overwhelmed or didn’t know what to say, and silently pulled the blanket up around them both. 

“I can’t believe we just fucked to Peter Gabriel,” he said after a moment. 

Patrick dropped his head to David’s chest, muffling a laugh as he continued pressing his lips to his skin. 

“It’s a good song, David,” he said quietly. 

“It’s a really good song,” David murmured in agreement.

* * *

It was after dawn when Patrick dropped David off, and he shuffled into the house, stifling a yawn as he headed towards his bedroom. 

“David.” the sound of his father’s sharp voice cutting through the early morning quiet startled him, and he spun around to see him in the sitting room. He was in his robe, and David had never seen him looking so exhausted. 

“ _Jesus,_ dad! You scared the shit out of me.”

“David, it’s six in the morning. Where the hell have you been?”

David crossed his arms defensively, avoiding Johnny’s gaze. His parents never cared before if he was out all night, if they ever noticed in the first place. “I’ve been out--side. I was outside.” 

“Were you with him? That boy?” David could feel his father’s gaze on him, and finally looked up to meet his eyes. He felt a simmer of anger in his stomach at the way his father had said _that boy,_ all contempt and dismissal. 

“His name is Patrick, and yes, I was.” 

Johnny rubbed a hand over his face. “I just don’t understand it, David. He comes from an entirely different world than we do. What can you possibly see in him? He has no direction, no plans for his future-”

“He’s kind to me,” David said quietly, cutting his father off. “He treats me better than anyone else has.” David cleared his throat, smiling as he thought about their first date all those weeks ago. 

“The first night we went out, to that party- you remember?” Johnny nodded slowly, and David continued. “He took me out for breakfast, and when we were leaving, there was some glass in the parking lot. Patrick pointed it out to me and cleared it out of my way. And I always think of that. He’s- He makes me feel safe.” Johnny looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Just don’t forget you have goals, son. You’re leaving for New York at the end of the summer. Don’t let him ruin that for you.” Before David could respond, Johnny headed towards the kitchen, leaving David alone. 

* * *

“Oh, my _god._ You slept with him, didn’t you?” Rachel’s face was incredulous as she leaned across the counter. Patrick bit back a grin, strumming a guitar and pointedly avoiding her gaze as he paced around the music store where Stevie and Rachel worked. 

“I admit nothing,” he replied, even as he felt his face grow hot, unable to keep his lips from curling into a smirk. 

“Look at his face!” Stevie gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Patrick Brewer! You finally did the deed?”

“Incredible.” Rachel shook her head in disbelief. “You got _David Rose_ to sleep with you. You should go on _The 700 Club_ or something.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Okay, calm down. Nothing is different.”

Stevie shook her head solemnly, looking him in the eye and placing her hand on his forearm. ”Patrick, listen to me. _Everything_ has changed between you two. You’ve had sex. That means you could be walking down the street 50 years from now, and you’ll run into him, and all you’ll be thinking is that _you had sex_.”

Patrick scoffed. “Okay. What’s the point?”

“You have to do something special now,” Rachel interjected. “Show him respect. Show him that you’re not like everyone else.”

“Send him flowers or write him a letter or _something,_ ” Stevie agreed. 

Patrick grinned, pulling an envelope out of his coat pocket with a flourish. “I already did.”

Stevie and Rachel exchanged a look. 

“What’s it say?” Rachel asked, as Stevie snatched the envelope out of Patrick’s hand. “Can we read it?” Patrick shrugged, then nodded. 

Stevie cleared her throat dramatically. “Dear David,” she started out, voice dripping with irony. Her expression suddenly softened as she scanned down the page. “I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.” she continued, her voice quiet. “All the love in my heart, Patrick.”

Silence settled over the store for a moment, and Patrick looked between Stevie and Rachel nervously. “Well?”

“You did good, Brewer.” Stevie said, handing the envelope back. 

Rachel nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect.”

Patrick smiled, sliding the envelope back into his pocket. 

He could admit that, at first, it was the _idea_ of David he was interested in. He was so different from everyone else they knew; he was bold and beautiful and stood apart from the crowd. But over time, Patrick saw past the defensive layers, the strange clothing and biting sarcasm. David was smart and creative and more sensitive than he would ever admit. In their quiet moments alone, David could be vulnerable, talking about his hopes and his fears and the things that he longed for. It was almost as if he couldn’t stand to see his own truths laid bare under the harsh light of morning, and only trusted himself to whisper them into Patrick’s skin under cover of darkness, during those strange hours where you could no longer tell if it was very late or very early. It was in those liminal spaces that Patrick felt himself falling in love with David Rose, and he was ready to tell him. 

* * *

“Your airline ticket to New York came today. And so did this...letter, or something, from Patrick.” 

David looked up from his desk to see his father standing in the doorway of his bedroom, holding out two envelopes. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, nodding for him to set them on the desk. “I was just thinking, though. Do you think I should stay?” 

Johnny’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

David took a deep breath. “I just think- with everything going on here. Don’t you think I should defer for a year? NYU can wait.” 

“Is this because of Patrick?” 

It was David’s turn to look shocked. “What? No, not-”

“I think you should break up with him, David, if he’s pressuring you to stay here.”

“He’s _not,_ Dad, I just thought with the investigation-”

“The investigation is bullshit, David, and nothing you need to worry about.” Johnny said firmly. “What you need to be worrying about is your future. Now, I know your mother and I haven’t always been the most attentive parents, but we’ve never had to worry before. You’ve managed to keep yourself on track. But now that you’re- you’re _slumming it_ with this boy-”

“ _Dad-_ ”

“Listen to me, David. This relationship is going nowhere. Think about what he has to gain, and what you have to lose. Are you going to let him ride your coattails for the rest of your lives? He doesn’t even have a plan beyond coaching Little League this summer! He’s dead weight, son. He’s only going to drag you down.” 

With that, Johnny turned and left the room, having once again gotten the last word. David felt hot, a current of anger simmering away under the surface of his skin. But a small, insecure voice in the back of his head started to wonder. _What if he’s right?_ Where, exactly, was their relationship headed? They both knew going into it that there was an expiration date, that they’d be going their separate ways at the end of the summer. What was the point in dragging this out even further? Maybe, David thought, it _was_ better to end things now, to rip the bandaid off before both of them got in even deeper- although David wasn’t sure it _was_ possible for him to get in any deeper. He spent the rest of the day talking himself in circles, reasoning why it could work out- and why it couldn’t. He felt like he put himself through all the stages of grief within a matter of hours, feeling angry at his father for his judgement and dismissal, bargaining with the universe to give him a sign that they could make the relationship work, before finally accepting the hard, gut-wrenching truth; he needed to break up with Patrick. 

* * *

David took a deep breath, turning his rings around and around his fingers as Patrick drove him home after seeing a movie. The evening had been awkward, and at first David thought it was just him, knowing what he was about to do. But Patrick seemed off, too- fidgety and cautious, more tender and less teasing than usual. Maybe, David thought, this would be easier than he’d anticipated. Maybe Patrick was about to break up with _him._ That thought was somehow even more unbearable than him being the one to do it, so David finally spit it out. 

“I think we need to take a break.”

“I love you.”

They both spoke at the same time, and Patrick’s already impossibly huge eyes widened and both of their jaws dropped open. 

“You _what?”_ they both gasped. 

Patrick had one hand on the back of David’s neck, gently playing with the short hairs there as he kept his eyes on the road, and the movement seemed to be an attempt on Patrick’s part to soothe himself as much as David. 

“Okay, David. Please tell me what’s going on because you’re freaking me out.”

David closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on the task at hand instead of getting lost in the sensation and forgetting his entire objective. Patrick _loved_ him, and here he was breaking up with him. 

“I just...things are getting more serious with the situation with my parents’ business. They have lawyers, and a court date, and it’s. It’s really _real._ And I’m leaving for New York soon so I think I just...need some time. To focus, and get ready for that.”

“Oh. Okay,” Patrick said easily, his expression clearing, as if it were that simple. “How much time do you need?”

“Patrick…”

He glanced at David, and David could pinpoint the exact moment things truly clicked into place; this wasn't just _a_ break. It was _the_ break, the end of the road for them, and it was devastating. The look of realization on his face made David feel sick to his stomach as Patrick pulled the car over to the curb and turned off the ignition, settling both of his hands into his lap. 

“Did. Did you just break up with me? Like _actually_ break up with me? I tell you I love you, and you decide to break up with me?”

“N-No, Patrick-”

“It sounded like you did.”

“No, we just...Decided it would be best for us to spend some time apart.”

“We did, huh?” Patrick’s voice was flat and hollow. “Is this because of your parents? Because they don’t like me? They think I’m not good enough for you?” He sounded frustrated, and David really couldn’t blame him, but found himself getting defensive anyway. 

“Please don’t--This is hard for me, Patrick.”

“Then don’t do it,” Patrick’s voice was full of quiet desperation. “If it’s so hard, then don’t do it. We can figure something out.”

David closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I really am.” 

David could feel Patrick’s eyes on him, but couldn’t bear to look at him, and after a moment Patrick restarted the car and pulled away. David kept his eyes trained out the window, resolutely blinking back tears until Patrick dropped him off at home. David watched as he drove away, waiting for his usual honk and wave, and felt his chest crack open when he realized it wasn’t coming. 

* * *

David tossed and turned. Sleep came easily during the nights spent with Patrick, even when they were squeezed together in his too-small bed in his parents’ tiny home, pressed together shoulder-to-shin. Safe, David thought again. Patrick had made him feel safe. Now, however, David’s own bed felt vast and empty and cold, and so incredibly lonely in the quiet darkness. 

He’d broken up with Patrick a week ago, and hadn’t spoken to him since, ignoring his phone calls. His father at least had refrained from saying “I told you so,” and had the decency to look sympathetic every time David got another stack of messages from Patrick. He’d discovered the letter Patrick had sent him when packing up his desk the night before, and openly wept for an hour after reading it. His room was slowly being packed away into boxes, and David found himself longing for the sense of stability and comfort he’d come to associate with Patrick’s presence. David was certain he had royally fucked up, and would regret it for the rest of his life, but he’d made his choice, and he had to live with it. If nothing else, Patrick deserved a clean break and didn’t need David jerking him around. 

David had finally begun to drift off to sleep when suddenly he heard music coming in his partially open bedroom window. 

Peter _fucking_ Gabriel. 

David threw back his covers and looked out the window. Sure enough, Patrick was in their driveway, illuminated by the headlights of his car, a boombox held over his head. He was an absolute _vision_ , and David wanted nothing more than to grab him by the hand and pull him into his bed. Instead, he closed his window, returned to his bed, and pulled a pillow over his head until the music eventually faded away, long before the tears stopped.

David threw himself into preparations for New York, feeling more and more anxious as both his departure and his father’s court date drew closer. Moira had scraped out of any legal implications unscathed because her name was nowhere on the official documents and, technically, she didn’t have anything to do with Rose Manor, Inc. She maintained that David’s father was innocent throughout the process, and David trusted both of his parents. They’d been distant, as far as parents go, but what they lacked in affection they more than made up for by providing David with everything else he needed. If they said Johnny was innocent, well. David believed them. 

But, as it turned out, Johnny Rose _was_ guilty. David sat in the courtroom as the verdict was read out weeks later, and his ears began ringing. He felt like he was in a dream, everything in slow motion even as his mother began caterwauling beside him.The pieces all began to click together for David eventually. The fancy cars, the opulent furnishings. The fact that his father was embezzling money from his residents was so obvious in retrospect that David couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. 

David left the courthouse on autopilot, unsure of where he was even going until he pulled up to the baseball field where he knew Patrick was at his coaching job. He wasn’t sure Patrick would be happy to see him; after he stood outside David’s window that night, the phone calls had stopped, and David was certain Patrick was past the point of forgiving him, but he had to try. He felt unmoored, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Patrick had always helped him feel anchored. It was selfish of him, probably, but if Patrick refused him, David would accept it and move on- or at least try to. 

He spotted Patrick from across the field, and raised a hand in greeting. Patrick froze where he was in the outfield, staring at David as if he couldn’t quite believe he was real. He was so distracted, in fact, that he failed to notice the batter had sent a ball in his direction, and David watched in horror as Patrick was hit square in the face. 

“Oh my _god,_ ” he gasped, watching as the assistant coach and half the little league team ran to his side, unsure what to do, hands fluttering nervously, but keeping his distance so as to not get in the way. After a few minutes of being fawned over, Patrick waved them off and headed towards the bench, and waved David over. 

David felt raw and exposed as he walked across the open field towards him, Patrick eyeing him warily. 

“What are you doing here, David?” he asked, as soon as David was within earshot. He was touching his nose gingerly as if to see if it were broken. It was bleeding, and a spectacular black eye was already blooming, and David’s chest ached with affection for him, even in this state. 

David hesitated for a moment, watching as Patrick rummaged around in a cooler at his feet. Pulling out an ice pack, Patrick looked up at him expectantly, still waiting on an answer. David swallowed hard. He had forgotten just how _loud_ those deep brown eyes could be, and right now they looked wary and wounded, like a trapped wild animal that didn’t trust its captor. 

“I love you,” he finally blurted, surprising himself. He took a deep, shaky breath as Patrick’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“ _What_?” The word came out with a breath of laughter, as if the very concept of David loving him was laughable. 

“I love you,” David repeated, impatient now. “How many times do I have to say it?”

Patrick smirked, tipping his head back as he held the ice pack to his nose to staunch the bleeding. “One more time would be nice.” 

David rolled his eyes. “Patrick, please,” he said quietly, stepping forward. “I love you.” Patrick nodded, still watching him carefully. “My um. My dad is guilty. He’s going to jail. And things are changing so fast, and I don’t know which way is up, and I just...I miss you, and I- I need you, Patrick.” David’s voice cracked as he came within arm’s length of Patrick and reached out. 

“Hang on, hang on..” Patrick held a hand out, closing his eyes, and David pulled up short. “Are you...are you here because you need someone? Or because you need _me_?”

David opened his mouth, getting ready to respond, when suddenly Patrick stood and closed the distance between them. 

“You know what? Never mind. I don’t care.” 

He crashed his lips into David’s, kissing him soundly. David didn’t even care that he still had blood on his face and smelled like sweat and grass and the outdoors. Kissing Patrick again made him feel like he’d had his first sip of water after nearly dying of thirst; he was unsure how he’d gone so long without doing it. 

“For the record,” he gasped, as Patrick pulled away from his mouth and pressed hungry kisses to his neck, “It’s you. I need you.” 

“Good answer,” Patrick laughed softly. 

There were things to be discussed, arrangements to be made, serious decisions to consider. But for now, all that mattered was Patrick’s arms around David’s waist, keeping him anchored and whole in the afternoon sun. 

* * *

It was odd to see Johnny Rose in anything other than a tailored suit. He sat across the picnic table from Patrick, the orange prison jumpsuit doing nothing for his complexion. 

“David wouldn’t get out of the car,” Patrick said quickly. “I brought him all the way here, and he said he was going to come here, and he wouldn’t get out of the car. I thought it was important that he come to see you.” Patrick’s nervous habit of spilling too many words in front of Mr. Rose unfortunately hadn’t improved with time. “I know if you go somewhere and you don’t deal with family stuff first-”

“Are you going to New York with him?” Mr. Rose cut him off. 

Patrick grimaced. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, sir.”

“Are you?”

“Am I going? Um. Am I going to New York.” Patrick laughed nervously. “I’ve thought about it quite a bit. And I realized what I should do is carve out a goal for my future and find out what I want to do with my life. I mean. David and I could wait for each other right? What is he going to do, run off with some fancy art school guy? No way.”

Mr. Rose nodded, looking pleased. “Well, Patrick. I admire you for not riding his coattails. My son is… a lot different from you.” 

“I know, Mr. Rose.”

“Our family has been very successful. He’s used to a certain lifestyle, a certain degree of comfort. I’m not sure you could provide that for him.” Patrick’s ears burned, a simmer of shame and anger in his stomach, but he kept his voice even as he began speaking. 

“I understand, sir. But then, you know, I reconsidered. I may not know what I want to do with my life, but what I do know is that I want to be with your son. I’m good at it, being with him. I may not be able to afford all the luxuries he’s used to, but the things he needs- stability, and comfort- those I can give him.”

Mr. Rose glared at him. “You’re not a permanent part of his life, Patrick. Plenty have come and gone before you, and you won’t be the last. You’re a distraction.”

Patrick smiled, unbothered, as he stood to take his leave. 

“I’m the distraction that’s going with him to New York, sir.” 

They had made the decision together, after a lengthy discussion, weighing the pros and cons. With his family’s legal troubles, David could no longer afford an apartment of his own nor would he have the ability to fly home for frequent visits. Patrick would get a job- coaching or bartending or waiting tables or _something_ \- it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that they would be together. 

* * *

“I thought with all your jetsetting you’d be used to flying,” Patrick murmured, running his fingers over David’s knuckles, which were white with how hard he was gripping the arm rest. They were on the airplane, finally en route to New York, and David was apparently petrified. 

“I usually pop a pill or two and fall asleep before takeoff.” 

Patrick laughed, then quickly realized David wasn’t joking. “Okay, well. That’s not an option, so you’re going to just have to hold my hand and trust me when I say we’ll be okay.”

David looked unconvinced, so Patrick pried his fingers from the armrest and laced them with his own. He kissed the back of David’s hand softly, and David closed his eyes as the plane started rolling forward. 

“That’s just a wing adjustment,” Patrick explained, as David jumped at the mechanical noises. “Just think of it as a rollercoaster. Everyone likes rollercoasters, right?” David nodded weakly, eyes still screwed tightly shut as the plan began to ascend into the air. 

“David.” Patrick waited for David to open his eyes and look at him. His pupils were huge with fear, and Patrick squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Blink twice if you’re fine.”

“I’m _fine,”_ David snapped, in a tone that suggested he was not fine at all. Patrick cupped David’s cheek with his free hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly across his cheekbone. 

“Here’s the thing, David. If anything happens on a flight, it’s usually going to happen within the first five minutes.” He nodded up at the illuminated seatbelt sign above their heads. “So once that light goes off, and you hear it _ding,_ you know everything is going to be okay.”

David’s eyes widened further as he nodded. “Okay. Good to know.” 

David grimaced as the plane hit some turbulence, and Patrick hurried to reassure him. 

“I’m just going to keep talking until that ding happens, David. It’s going to be soon. But I’m going to be here for you, no matter what.”

David nodded, a smile suddenly on his face for the first time since they reached the airport that morning, and then he leaned in and kissed Patrick softly, as the seatbelt sign finally _dinged_ off. 

“I know you will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> A few disclaimers:  
> -Some of this stuff is extremely out-of-character for the people we know and love, especially Johnny. But in keeping it true to the film, he kind of needed to be a jerk, and he needed to be guilty. I also feel like Lloyd is a little less sensible and a little more head-in-the-clouds than canon Patrick, and wrote this AU Patrick accordingly- but maybe our canon Patrick would be a little less serious if he’d felt more comfortable in his skin from a younger age? 
> 
> \- I borrowed _heavily_ from the film's dialogue for this, but tried to change it up a little to sound more like them.  
> -I tried to keep things as vague as possible, but assume this takes place in the ‘80s like the original film. I apologize for any anachronisms that may have occurred.
> 
> -I know nothing about cars. I don’t know what kind of car Diane received for her graduation in the movie, though I know it isn’t a Porsche, but her car is ugly and David Rose deserved better. 
> 
> -I don’t know anything about the legal system or timelines, so forgive the vague hand-waving about the legalese. I also don’t know how catastrophic baseball injuries can be, so let’s assume that a little leaguer can’t hit a ball with enough force to seriously injure Patrick. 
> 
> -RIP to Alexis but she doesn’t exist in this, very sorry, I just couldn't figure out where to fit her in. 
> 
> -Title comes from In Your Eyes by the incomparable Peter Gabriel, which is the song they're listening to in the back of Patrick's car and the one he plays outside of David's window.


End file.
